Dark In My Imagination
by Tirainy
Summary: There are times when Shadow is violently reminded that the blood flowing through his veins is in fact alien.
1. Surrender To Reason

**Dark In My Imagination**

There are times when Shadow is violently reminded that the blood flowing through his veins is in fact alien.

 **TAGs: Creator Choose not to use archive warnings,** established relationship, dreams, dark desires, sadism, violence, domination, Shadow struggles with his alien side, character study, psychological, this is not a happy fic, this is a very dark fic, I am not kidding, do not read this unless you are ready for that, angst, so much angst, alcohol consumption

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise.**

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 **AN:** So, most of you're probably thinking along the lines of 'What is this and where's the next chapter for Deepest Desire'? Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to write that one yet and probably won't have for next month either. So, sorry but you'll have to wait a bit longer for that one. Though I assumed you'd appreciate having something else to read in the meantime so...have fun. ;)

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 **Chapter 1: Surrender to Reason**

 _"Just look at yourself." Shadow roughly grabs his captive's chin, tilting it up, easily overpowering the other when they try to resist the move._

 _How could he not when the other has not slept or eaten properly in days?_

 _"You're so pitiful."_

 _Green blood-shot eyes glare at him from the normally so cheerful-looking face that is now twisted in a pained grimace as his captive stubbornly tries not to let their pain be heard; even though it is obvious to the naked eye from their body-language, the lithe body leaning heavily for support against the stone wall._

 _"You still can give up, you know. You can submit and stop the pain," Shadow offers, watching as drops of blood dribble down from his captive's torn lip onto their already red-stained thigh before trickling down to the ground into the crimson puddle that has already formed there._

 _He looks up, brushing his thumb over the other's injury. His expression and tone remain impassive even when his captive hisses in pain and tries to recoil from the touch—unsuccessfully; he's holding on too tight. "Get a meal and your wounds treated."_

 _For a long moment, the other only silently stares at him, eyes darting across his visage as if searching for something._

 _Then, when the other apparently finds it, their fawn lips pull into a smirk and the other lets out a hollow laugh._

 _"You'd like that wouldn't you?" His captive's voice is hoarse as they speak, their features twisting in pain briefly as even those few little word hurt their already abused throat—all the days without any water and hours of screaming in pain have left it raw and aching._

 _Green eyes open once more to meet Shadow's gaze. They are a bit glazed over because of the other's exhaustion but Shadow can see the fire of rebellion is still burning deep in their depths._

 _"N-no freaking way."_

 _Shadow watches the other for a long moment, waiting to see if their determination will not falter. However, when that does not happen and the other only continues to stare at him with those rebellious eyes of theirs, he concludes the other's attitude is not just a false bravado._

 _Shadow snorts in amusement, feeling both exasperation and excitement at the knowledge his captive's spirit remains unbroken even after all this time._

 _He has chosen well._

 _A smirk spreads across his face._

 _"Have it your way then."_

 _Before the other even can prepare for the blow, Shadow roughly grasps the other's head and forces his captive to bow down, the sudden move pulling on the other's stiff cold-stricken muscles, making them shout out in surprise and pain. "GAH!"_

 _"I wonder," Shadow starts, shifting his hand to avoid injuring himself on the other's bristling quills that have raised themselves in response to their owner's sudden flare of pain, "how much I can push you before you fall apart."_

 _He forces the other even lower until their nose is touching the ground, ignoring the pained yelp they give out._

 _"What is your breaking point?" he continues to wonder aloud, watching as slender arms shake in tension, metal hand-cuffs keeping them close to the wall and forcing them to stretch uncomfortably as their owner remains bowed forward, the rest of body soon starting to tremble too, the position uncomfortable even for someone as flexible as his captive is. "When will you give up?"_

 _He shifts his grip and instead of forcing the other to remain down, he forces his captive to upright once again, hearing as the moment the spiky head collides with the wall with a thud once more—not with enough force to break open the skull, but enough to momentarily daze his captive._

 _"Will you ever beg me to stop?" Shadow's hands curls around the other's throat just as unfocused emerald gaze lands on him. First glimpse of realization and fear flickers in the green eyes and Shadow's mouth curls at the sight, a wave of excitement coursing through his being as he tightens his hold on the other's throat. "Or would you rather let me destroy you than let go of your pride?"_

 _The peach mouth opens to hopelessly gape for air, the lithe body now thrashing in his hold, trying to escape the constant pressure on their trachea. However, Shadow holds on tight, not letting go until the very moment the other seems about to faint._

 _Coughs and gasps for air follow and Shadow only watches._

 _"I think I've been going too easy on you until now," he muses aloud. "I ought to do something more drastic," he continues as he once again grabs the other's head, twisting it to the side, another pained moan escaping the other before they can stop it._

 _Green eyes open to glare at him the moment they can._

 _"What do you think?"_

 _Unsurprisingly, his captive remains stubbornly silent._

 _Shadow lets out an amused snort. "I thought so." He shifts his hold on the other's head, his touch almost caressing as he guides it to tilt up instead of forcing it, his thumb gently brushing over the other's jawline. The other's gaze flickers to his hand and then back to his face._

 _For the first time, green eyes stare at him with uncertainty._

 _Shadow feels something twist in his gut at the sight; but he quickly squashes the feeling, letting the wicked excitement fill its place once more as he tugs the other to his body and leans lower—closer._

 _Unease replaces the uncertainty in the green eyes._

 _The smell of fear fills the air._

 _"You know—" A feral smirk stretches across his lips. "—there's always been something much more satisfying about using my teeth to bring pain rather than my hands..."_

 _And then he leans down, not taking notice of the ear-splitting cry of agony the other lets out as his teeth sink into the his captive's flesh, warm blood filling his mouth as he twists his head to the side and—_

...

With a jerk, Shadow sits up, dread and horror brought on by his own actions flooding his system as the gruesome images linger before his mind's eye. However, it is soon after that he realizes that his hands are in fact holding onto _nothing_ and that there is not even trace of the telltale metallic taste of blood on his tongue. The room also feels much warmer than the humid dungeon he had been in just moments ago.

 _What...? That..._ It takes him a moment to put the pieces together. _...That_ _ **damned**_ _dream again..._ Tan lips twist into a scowl again and Shadow huffs as he lets himself fall backwards onto the cushions, rubbing his eyes tiredly, the horror of his imaginary-self's actions washing away and instead being replaced with frustration once again.

Angrily he throws away his bedding and gets up, heading straight for the bathroom like all the other nights before. The moment he sets a foot in the shower, he turns on the faucet to the coldest temperature possible, not even flinching when the icy cold water hits him with full force—he's done this too many times already for it to affect him anymore.

So _many_ times...

Gritting his teeth in anger, he hits the wall in frustration, uncaring when the tiles crack under the force of the impact; he's too angry and tired to care for such an unimportant thing like the decor of his bathroom.

Growling in frustration, he hits the wall once more, not caring even if this time he actually _shatters_ the tiles into pieces; not even though he cuts his hand on one of the sharper edges when he draws it back to his side.

It is a mere reflex that makes him glance at the injury. However, he regrets the action just a moment later when the sight of blood triggers the memory of his today dream—and the dozens that came before it, for once hating himself for having such a great memory.

He curses under his breath and does all in his power to push the images—and the emotions they bring—away.

He is in no way new to nightmares; for months after his release from the cryogenic chamber, he'd dream of Maria's death in vivid detail— _night after night._ He had hated witnessing Maria's death over and over again and it had felt incredibly liberating when those nightmares finally stopped.

But then...this dream has began.

The dream is not the same each time, but the most important elements remain constant—him, his prisoner and their... _interaction_.

Shadow feels disgust fill him at the mere thought of that.

Before he has never thought that he'd ever wish for the nightmare of Maria's death plaguing him each night to return, but it is a nightmare that he'd accept with open arms eagerly if it meant _this one_ would stop.

This...this...this ugly mirror into his own abhorrent subconsciousness; the side of himself that the more he tries to turn a blind eye to, the more it seems to grow in strength.

Even right now he can feel it at the back of his mind. These _thoughts_...this _wickedness._..fighting to be heard, to be listened to, to be _obeyed_...

He shakes his head to chase away the feeling; to force it back from wherever it has emerged, not willing to give up control.

He glances over his shoulder at the hedgehog that is still soundly sleeping in their shared bed, the other completely oblivious to his inner turmoil and struggle—how Shadow _preferred_ him to be.

No need for the hero to know that he is the main star of his twisted dreams—dreams that are getting more and more frequent, more and more vivid, intense and most of all...enjoyable.

 _Terrifyingly_ enjoyable.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he turns away from the other and sharply turns the faucet to its full power, letting the ice cold water seep into his fur, onto his heated skin, letting the freezing water drain all the warmth from his body until it shivers from the cold.

Only if he could so easily deprive himself of those dreams like he can deprive his body of its warmth...

Taking a deep breath, he leans against the damaged wall, determined to withstand the bite of cold on his already cold skin and the icy waterfall that is still drenching him from head to toe for as long as necessary for it to numb his body and rid him of the _proof_ of his shameful enjoyment of his appalling dreams.

He clenches his fists and takes another deep breath, willing his blood to stop boiling, shouting at him...

 _ **Destroy enemy...**_

He shakes his head to chaste the invasive thought away, instinctively raising the mental walls he'd learned to build during the Black Arms' invasion when Black Doom would constantly try to use the Hive mind to force him into doing the overlord's bidding.

But how can a defense like that keep outside something that is attacking from the _inside_? From his _very core_?

When he was younger, he had always thought his desire for power and utter destruction of his enemies was a side-effect of his GUN training. He had been controlled and abused since his first days; it had been something he taught himself to silently endure as any resistance would mean his termination and a delay in Professor's search for a cure to Maria's illness—disobedient weapons were useless to the GUN, they had made that clear the moment his training started.

He isn't sure if it had taken days, weeks or months of training for him to start developing the desire to harm and control the scientists and GUN officers in the same way they abused him. He might have never acted on his desires in his days aboard ARK, but the yearning to control and the craving to hurt have always been at the back of his mind, over the time growing stronger until they became an integral part of his personality—a part he has always tried to hide from those he cares about.

After finding out about his true heritage, he, however, realized these desires are something that has always been a part of him and have been just woken up out of slumber—this wickedness has _always_ been in him.

It is not something brought on by GUN; he has been a monster long before he first opened his eyes.

The desire to destroy, hurt, and dominate others are things that are _encoded_ in the very DNA of Black Arms; the fact they have never been concerned with anything beside their own survival and shedding the blood of others has showed that—they are a war-seeking species first and foremost. He _felt_ it for that very brief moment that Black Doom managed to link him to the Black Arms' Hive mind—this overwhelming self-centeredness and blood-thirst...

Of course, these traits are not exclusive to only Black Arms; some Mobians could easily match them in these aspects. Though what is unique to Mobians is the ability—the _need_ —to care for someone beside themselves—the desire for companionship.

To the Black Arms' companionship is a foreign term—in mind, Black Arms are _one_. To them, every other species has always automatically been either an enemy or food; someone they should hurt or kill—and _enjoy_ doing that.

The Black Arms' way and the Mobian way of life are just two distinct life philosophies that just don't match together; it is no surprise he has turned out as an bizarre amalgamation of the two.

Sighing, Shadow rubs his eyes tiredly. His whole body is already mostly numb from the cold water but he doesn't make a move to step out of the shower yet or at least close the water off.

There are very few things he has ever felt bad about—has been ashamed of. These desires are one of those few things, because no matter how much he tries, he keeps failing to fully...suppress them.

Until not so long, he and Sonic would brawl regularly; he had enjoyed those sessions greatly while they lasted—they allowed him to actually get violent with Sonic without having to worry about causing any bad blood between them—he'd always made sure to tone himself down, made sure to keep himself in check so he wouldn't hurt Sonic too much, but once...once he lost control and actually broke three of Sonic's ribs with a single blow.

What is even worse about it is how he _felt_ during it.

The feeling of Sonic's bones breaking under his knuckles was just... _thrilling_. He didn't feel any regret about causing Sonic harm; he felt _pleased_ with it.

Of course, when he came back to his sense and realized what he had done, he felt disgusted with himself—he _still_ is—and thus he's since declined all of Sonic's request to brawl.

As expected, Sonic was confused by this sudden one-eighty and assured him he knew the last time was just an accident and that he was in no way mad at him—but Shadow still refused to spar with him as he didn't want to accidentally hurt Sonic more.

Unfortunately, not engaging in fight with Sonic is not enough to stop him from accidentally hurting the hero as there are other types of _exertion_ during which one might get a bit carried away.

Unsurprisingly, they both like to participate in those too.

And, from time to time, Sonic decides that if he cannot bring Shadow to battlefield, he's gonna bring the battlefield to _him_.

It always happens after a fight with some of Dr. Eggman's weaker robots—an easy fight that leaves Sonic only with minor injuries but running high-on adrenaline, and thus craving more action. At these times, their fore-play is usually short-lived or filled with well-aimed verbal jabs that soon sends them tumbling onto a bed—or another appropriate surface—and performing to what other people would most likely look like a wrestling match—and for the most part really is.

Shadow is ashamed to admit that these times are what he enjoys the most.

It is not often that Sonic lets himself get manhandled in this way; however, every time he's sure to come out of it covered with lots of hickeys and bruises—as, under the onslaught of sensations and emotions, even Shadow, sometimes, unfortunately, loses the control of himself—or his strength—for a few moments.

He glances to his sleeping partner once more, one of such dark marks possible to be seen above the hero's collarbone—a mark that is a couple of days old already.

Sonic is able to handle a lot of pain—is _used_ to it thanks to the years of fighting Eggman's robots—and is never mad about Shadow accidentally injuring him and usually just teases the agent about losing his composure when they're done.

The hero is completely oblivious to the war that is going on between Shadow's heart and instincts—a war Shadow is afraid his heart will lose one day.

Sighing, Shadow closes off the water and begins to towel his fur dry, ignoring the heavy feeling in his arm muscles as he forces them to work against the gravity and the shivering of his own body as his muscles desperately try to produce more heat and compensate for the loss of warmth the cold shower has caused.

Once sure his fur is dry enough, he throws the used towel over the side of the bathtub, uncaring if it actually lands there, and steps back into the dark bedroom. For a moment, he just stands at Sonic's side, watching the other sleep soundly, without any care in the world for the few short night hours.

Slowly, Shadow moves his hand to pet behind Sonic's ear—a spot he knows Sonic very much enjoys. The sleeping hero leans weakly into his touch just a moment later, a soft pleased sound escaping past the peach lips.

Shadow smiles mournfully; Sonic is a great person—kind, loyal, caring; the perfect combination of what one would wish in a partner and a friend.

And yet...deep down in Shadow, there is a loud voice that calls for the destruction of this amazing being.

Tan lips twist into a frown. There is no doubt that he does not deserve Sonic; he only keeps causing him pain. Sure, Sonic usually has fun during it, but that doesn't make it right in any way. There could be a time where he would simply lose control over himself completely and...and...

Shadow shakes his head to chase the thought away, pulling his hand back to his body and one dark ear flicking at the quiet whine Sonic gives in his sleep at the caress suddenly ceasing. The corners of Shadow's lips briefly lift up in amusement at the sound—of course, Sonic is going to complain about not being paid attention even in his sleep.

However, the amusement leaves Shadow's body with a sigh, the agent now staring at Sonic longingly.

He loves him. Oh, how he loves him. _Adores_ him. But Sonic deserves better than him. Better than a twisted creation of a desperate genius...an abomination of science that deep down desires to see him broken.

Sonic deserves better.

Taking a deep breath to pull himself back together, Shadow leans down to briefly presses his lips against Sonic's, stealing for himself what he knows will be his last kiss with Sonic.

Three heartbeats pass and he can feel Sonic weakly try to kiss back in his sleep. However, Shadow pulls away at that very moment, his lips pulling into a thin line that hides the pained smile that wants to show instead.

It is only a few hours until the moment Sonic wakes up and he'll have to tell him that he wants to end their relationship, see how Sonic's face will make thousands of different emotions before settling on pained confusion and his mouth will open to let out a stream of questions; questions he won't be able to give truthful answers to if he doesn't want Sonic to see him as the monster he truly is.

Shadow straightens his back once more and with long strides and a heavy heart leaves the room, not daring to look back at what— _who_ —he is walking from; he cannot allow himself any second-guessing.

After all, this is the only right thing to do.


	2. Heart's Capitulation

****AN:**** **I planned to post this much later but my exams have gone well and that calls for celebration!** **And there's no better way to do that than with a load of—**

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 ** **Chapter 2: Heart's Capitulation****

Normally, Shadow takes great pleasure in his morning routine of just lounging in the kitchen while enjoying a mug of freshly-brewed coffee. But not today. He barely registers the bitter bite of the drink on his tongue as he nervously waits for Sonic to finally make his way into the kitchen; the sound of running water has stopped some time ago, so Sonic should be coming any second now...

And as if the hero has heard him, Sonic rounds the corner, his fur still a bit glistening because of the moisture left from his morning shower.

"Morning, Shad." Sonic steps into the kitchen with a bright smile, oblivious of what is about to happen. The hero makes a quick way to the fridge, opening it to find something to eat. "Hey, just so you know, it seems your shower needs a bit of renovation—a couple of the tiles in the shower have cracked and fallen off for some reason."

"I know about it," Shadow huffs, his hands clenching around his mug.

Sonic hums as he continues rummaging through the fridge. "Maybe there was a minor earthquake while we slept...?" he muses aloud.

 _No, but there's gonna be a major one soon,_ Shadow noted with a frown. No amount of sugar-coating is going to help here; the best choice is to do it as quickly as possible—like when taking off a band-aid.

Shadow tries to keep his voice as neutral as possible as he speaks up, "Sonic, could you, please, sit down?"

"Hmm?" Sonic glances at him over his shoulder, raising a single brow. "Sure." He closes the fridge door, walking a few paces to the table to pull out the chair and sit onto it, laying his forearms onto the table as he seats himself. "What's the matter~?" he asks, a tiny smile on his face.

Closing his eyes, Shadow takes a deep breath, already hating himself for what he was about to do—but breaking Sonic's heart instead of Sonic in his entirety is, undoubtedly, the better choice to make here.

No. Not the better choice. The _only_ choice.

Red eyes open.

"I'm breaking up with you."

The change in Sonic's expression is immediate; the tiny smile slips from his face and instead a vacant, shocked look replaces it, the green eyes losing some of its shine as the hero become momentarily lost in thought, his brain obviously running thousand miles per second to find the reason why this is happening.

But it's obvious that the search has been fruitless as a single word falls from Sonic's lips.

"...Why?"

The anguish reaches Sonic's voice before it does his face, but both slash at Shadow's resolve with giant claws, making it almost impossible for him to stay put and not reach out to comfort Sonic.

Almost.

"I thought we were happy..." is mumbled a bit later by the hero, the other staring at him with big questioning eyes. "What happened?" Before Shadow can even try to avoid it, Sonic's hand is already wrapped around his, the physical contact meant to gain comfort; though this time it is not for Shadow—but for Sonic himself. "Did I...do something?"

Shadow wills his voice to remain steady—and not let his hand shake as he forces himself to withdraw it from Sonic's hold, balling it into a fist as he places it onto his lap. "It's not your fault."

There is a flash of uncertainty in Sonic's expression as he watches him withdraw his hand. However, when Sonic realizes what is the point of rejecting the gesture, the change in Sonic's expression is instant and it cannot be described in any other way then as _heart-breaking_ ; Shadow believe that if somebody right now tried to cut his heart right out of his chest with a child's butter knife the pain would not even compare to the agony he is feeling at seeing Sonic like this.

Or the pain Sonic is feeling, that much is apparent.

 _Chaos..._ Shadow covers his mouth, briefly squeezing his eyes closed to free himself of the sight. But it doesn't matter; it has already burned itself into his memory.

But he cannot step back, he just _can't_ ; he's doing this for Sonic's safety—pain passes, death does not.

Sonic's voice is noticeably shaky as he speaks, "What went wrong then?"

Sighing, Shadow opens his eyes once more. "Me," he replies simply, the answer for a moment causing the pain in Sonic's expression to turn to confusion instead.

The hero shifts in his seat, tilting his head ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

Shadow lets his hand drop from his face back to his lap. "Nothing I could explain in a way anybody else could understand."

"...That doesn't really make any sense, Shadow." There is a light amused undertone to the statement, lifting the corners of the hero's lips into a small smile; though it disappears right after.

Tan lips twist into a scowl; Sonic has a point but Shadow really cannot elaborate on his answer. "...It's complicated," he settles for saying in the end.

"Just try to explain it. If I know what's wrong, we can...we can try to fix it together," Sonic says, the corners of his downturned mouth lifting up into a small smile once again—it is obvious the hero believes their relationship can still be saved.

It hurts Shadow that he has to be the one to shoot all those hopes down again—but it is the _only_ right thing to do. "Unfortunately, it's not something you can fix."

"I haven't tried yet."

"But I _have_ ," Shadow replies, finality in his voice, "and it cannot be done."

Sonic chuckles. "I'm a bit better at doing impossible things than you are, Shad."

"Then you haven't achieved the impossible. Just _highly_ improbable," Shadow argues. "And this is one-hundred percent not-fixable."

"Says the pessimist." Sonic is leaning forward now, the sadness and pain that had been previously in the hero's expression now hidden behind a thick layer of determination and honest concern. Concern for him. Concern he doesn't deserve. "Instead of telling me what is wrong."

 _You wouldn't be able to help even if you knew what is wrong._ That is the sad truth. "You _cannot_ fix it."

"But I still can try to work my way around it!" Sonic shots up from his seat, his quills rising in a flare of anger, the hero obviously becoming frustrated with his uncooperativeness. "Some problems cannot be fixed, yeah, but you can learn how to live with them!"

"This is not something you can learn to live with. Just give up, Sonic."

"I don't give up. _Ever_ ," Sonic declares as he rounds the table and comes to stand before the agent, peach arms crossed over fawn chest. "You should know that by now."

"Unfortunately, I do." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Shadow takes a deep breath to calm himself. He sometimes really hates how goddamn stubborn can Sonic...and, at the same time, it is also one of the things he _adores_ so much about him. " _First-hand_."

"Then you also know that I'm not stopping until I get an actual answer from you," Sonic replies, his expression still stern though softening substantially—even his posture becomes somehow more relaxed, his quills returning to their flat position once more. "We can save a lot of time if you just say it now."

"It won't bring any good."

"Let _me_ be the judge."

"Trust me, Sonic. This isn't something you want to know."

"How can you know?"

"This is something no one wants to know about their partner," Shadow hisses, giving the other a hard look. " _No one_."

For a moment, Sonic actually looks like he's pondering his words, but then, expectedly— "I still wish to hear it."

"You don't," Shadow replies, his tone soft and words more of whisper at the end than anything else. "You really don't."

Silence takes over the room, the two of them both completely silent. Sonic shifts in his spot, gently swaying from one leg to the other as the hero tries to figure out a new approach to the situation; they were running in circles, they had to get out of them.

"...you don't love me anymore?" Sonic's voice cuts through the heavy silence like a thunder through a silent night, the unexpected question making Shadow look up at him in surprise. "Is that what this all is about? That you no longer love me?"

Shadow stares at the other, trying not to show any emotion as he quickly tries to evaluate the situation. He hasn't expected Sonic to come to this _conclusion_ out of all possibilities, but it makes sense to assume so from what kind of answers he has been giving to Sonic.

 _I fell out of love with you._ That is something no one would wish to hear from their partner. That is a reasonable explanation here and if is what Sonic believes at the moment, then so be it. It will hurt him, sure, but he'll accept it—after all, there's no way to make a person love another person. It's not something that can be arranged or fixed; feelings just arise and also _pass_ on their own.

Even love.

"...I have not intended you to find out," the lie flows out of his mouth like a confession that has been waiting too long to be heard, sounding sincere as a convincing lie should be. "I knew you'd blame yourself for it. But you shouldn't—the problem is in _me_ , not you." He even head-on meets the other's gaze to give more weight to his words. "I don't want you to think you're at fault in any way."

Sonic stares at him for a long time, an unreadable expression on his face, until...

"...Liar." And peach lips twist into an angry scowl.

Shadow looks at the other sharply. "Wh—" But before he can actually say anything, Sonic's voice is already drowning out his words, the hero's open palms coming hard onto the table to convey Sonic's anger.

"You'd rather lie to my face, say you don't love me anymore, instead of telling me what's _wrong_?!" Sonic is on the verge of shouting now, both the volume of his voice and quills rising once more in response to his agitated state. "Why do you refuse to tell me the truth?!"

The questions is delivered with both fury and hurt; Sonic obviously feeling equally both angry and hurt now, looking like he someone who wanted to _both_ lash out _and_ curl into themselves but couldn't really decided which alternative to pick.

To be honest, Shadow himself is really torn about what to do.

"...This the truth," he insists on the lie in the end, hoping that Sonic's defensive approach is just denial and not Sonic actually looking through his act, "and I'm telling it to you now."

"Oh, really?" Sonic doesn't look like he believes his word. At _all_. "Then tell me this does nothing to you!"

And clearly Sonic's action-taking side takes charge as Shadow suddenly finds his lap and arms full of the blue-furred hero, his lips being crushed in an almost painful, desperate kiss, and by a work of some miracle somehow not toppling over in his chair under the sudden assault.

One of his arms automatically winds around Sonic's waist, the sensation and taste of Sonic reaching him before a coherent thought can, and it's either his instinct, reflex, muscle memory or maybe all of the _treacherous_ above that makes him get up, grab the underside of the blue thighs and press Sonic against a wall in one smooth motion without even breaking a sweat or the kiss.

The moment of mind-numbing passion is, however, short-lived as a painful involuntary hiss escapes Sonic when he's roughly shoved against the wall, the sound immediately triggering an alarm in Shadow's head and making him snap out of the odd haze and the kiss that has brought it on.

Upon realizing what has actually just transpired, Shadow's face goes blank and he stares at the other wordlessly. However, inside him there's a mixture of fury and anxiety, the agent mad both at himself for losing control like that and at Sonic for exploiting his dropped guard. But there's no denying the truth anymore—Sonic has just tricked him into proving he has been lying all this time.

He squeezes his eyes shut, cursing under his breath.

Damn the clever hedgehog. _Damn him and himself too._

There's a soft touch to his face, a warm hand coming to rest on his cheek and because he knows there's no point in resisting, he open his eyes, meeting the other's gaze reluctantly.

" _Please_..." The sharp edges of Sonic's expression have softened, his tone also becoming softer. _Soothing._ "Just tell me what the problem is." The hero leans his forehead against his, closing his eyes briefly as he whispers, "I don't want to lose you."

Shadow clenches his jaw at the confession, ignoring how painfully the words pull at his heart. The same words that he's been thinking for months now, the same words that are clawing at his throat even now.

 _...I don't want to lose you..._

But he has to—in one way to not lose Sonic in the most important one.

He clenches his jaw, his hands now holding onto Sonic's thighs with almost enough force to bruise as he once again tries to call on power to do what he needs to do.

There's no other choice.

No other option.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs hollowly as he slowly lets the hero back onto the ground, feeling his heart grow heavier the moment his arms are free of the hero's weight. "...I'm sorry."

He makes two steps back, ultimately breaking the physical contact altogether as peach arms slip from around his neck. The weight of Sonic's stare bears on him as he brings distance between them, creating a rift he knows he'd never be able to repair no matter how hard he'd try.

"...I'm sorry."

 _It's for him. I'm doing it for him..._ He holds onto the thought with all he has as he looks at his partn—Sonic for the last time.

And then—like a coward—he runs away in a flash of a golden light.

O-o-O-o-O

The music roars in his ears, the loud bass shaking the building ever so slightly, rippling his drink in its glass and causing a tingling sensation where his hand lies on the table.

He hates clubs, hates masses of people and would prefer to silently lurk in his old room—it isn't like Rouge has done anything with it anyway—but because that hasn't helped him anyhow in escaping the feelings of shame and guilt and treacherous thoughts that have been on the forefront since he's left Sonic, he's figured it wouldn't make much difference if he remained in his old room or stashed himself to a far dark corner in the club.

At least he can drink himself into oblivion here.

Eventually.

"My, my, so, you've finally decided to leave your den."

Shadow sighs as he looks up from his glass of scotch at the talker, already knowing whom to expect. A frown crosses his face when he sees Rouge leaning against his table, a glass of martini in her hand and a calculatedly inexpressive look on her face.

She raises the hand with the drink. "Care for a drinking partner, sugar?"

It isn't hard to figure out who has sent her. It isn't hard to figure out what she is planning to do. "Go away, Rouge," he grunts out, hoping that for once Rouge won't be the pain in the ass she always is in situations like these and will for once leave him alone to wallow in his misery.

However, Rouge being who she is, as always ignores his order and instead wordlessly slips into the booth to sit across him, swirling her martini for a moment while just looking at him silently, most likely trying to figure out how to best get into his head this time.

However, he's not in mood to play any mind-games; he honestly just wants to be left alone right now. "Rouge, I warn you—"

"My club, my rules, darling." Rouge smiles sweetly as he takes a sip of her drink. "If I feel like drinking with you then I _will_ , you can't make me leave."

"You really aren't planning to drink with me." It's a simple statement on Shadow's side, the ebony agent too well acquainted with her techniques for obtaining information to not see it as the ploy it is. "You plan to pry information out of me," he adds, taking another swig from his glass.

"You're actually wrong about that, hon," Rogue replies mysteriously as she waves at one of the waitresses. The girl jogs to their table but before she can even ask what they'll be having, Rouge is already ordering, "One Cosmpolitan and vodka—the whole bottle. Wait! Make it two. That'll be better."

Shadow raises a brow at the choice. "Oh? So you plan to make die by alcohol poisoning instead?"

"Dying? By alcohol poisoning? _You_? Don't make me laugh, Shadow." Rouge snickers and takes a swig of her own drink. "We know it takes a lot more than two bottles of Vodka to take you down."

A frowns mars Shadow's face as he realizes she's right. His biology won't allow that—his body processes alcohol way too quickly for it to have any long lasting effects on him—it takes that amount just to get him a _little_ drunk; Rouge will have to take out her hardest liquors if she really wants to pry any information out of him while he's drunk.

"Umm...are you sure you want two whole bottles, madam?"

Ears perking up at the unsure sound, Rouge looks at the waitress who is now looking at them somehow oddly. "Sure. Why not?" Teal eyes run the girl up and down, and realizes that she doesn't seem familiar in any way. "You're new here?"

The lemur girl clutches her serving tray, her lips pressing into a thin line while her bushy striped tail waves behind her somehow nervously. "My name's Tangle. I started at Monday, madam."

"Monday?" Rouge hums in acknowledgement as she continues to study the visage of her new employee; she really needs to start paying more attention to the people she hires. "I see. Well, here, meet my friend Shadow. He has a liver made of steel so don't worry about serving him whatever he asks for."

The girl doesn't really look convinced, but she still nods. "As you say," she says. "I'll go bring your drinks, madam."

"Do." Rouge nods and the girl turns around and heads for the bar. "Oh! And don't call me 'madam'! I hate it!"

Shadow raises a questioning brow at the remark.

Rouge just shrugs her shoulders as she takes a sip of her own drink. "It makes me feel old."

It doesn't take long for the girl to return with their order, lay it onto the table and then leave to serve the customers. Rouge remains surprisingly silent during the whole thing.

Crimson eyes study the bat as she takes one of the vodkas and moves to pour him a glass. Still without a word, surprisingly.

"Sonic has asked you to get me drunk, hasn't he?" Shadow breaks the silence in the end, his hand automatically curling around the glass of vodka when Rouge slides it to him from across the table.

Rouge takes her still-mostly-untouched Martini, twirling the drink with the stick of olives that it came with as she leans against her seat. "You know, he actually doesn't even know you're here," she explain as she pops one of the olives into her mouth. "He _did_ call me to ask if I didn't happen to know where you were, but from his tone and the look on your face when you came in I assumed it'd be better to say 'no' for now and give both of you the time to calm down from whatever has transpired between you two."

Shadow's lips pressed into a thin line. "...Figures." That was a stupid assumption on his part; Sonic would have already been kicking the door open a _long_ time ago if he knew he was here...

"So what's the trouble in paradise? What did you two fight about?" Rouge inquires, her eyes trained on her drink as she once again stirred it. "Sonic's sounded pretty upset."

Shadow clenches his jaw at the almost casually sounding remark. "We didn't fight," he says, his hands gripping tightly on his still full glass. "We broke up."

Rouge stops in the middle of the motion of sipping her drink. She turns to him slowly, eyes wide, the hand with the Martini sinking before she could drink even a drop of it. "...You _what_?"

"Broke up," Shadow repeats before finishing his scotch and then putting the glass away.

The ebony agent doesn't see Rouge's expression, but her tone speaks enough of her confusion. "Why?"

"Incompatibility," Shadow says mournfully as he stares into his other drink, drumming his fingers against the wall of the glass and wondering how many more it'll take to quell the unruly emotions in his gut.

"Of what kind?"

"Unfixable one," he replies and then downs the vodka glass in one go. It's probably gonna make him sick drinking this fast but he's honestly past caring at this point. The day is already horrible—no reason not to make it worse.

"Have you tried duct tape? That fixes everything."

Shadow's brows furrowed at the unexpected tangent in their conversation. "...I fail to see how would duct tape help."

"Then you're apparently not using enough of it."

Shadow snorts at the dry attempt of humor from his colleague. He appreciates the effort but it's hardly going to change anything or better his mood.

He doesn't deserve feeling better anyway.

Rouge sighs when she sees her attempt at lightening up the mood wasn't as effective as she's hoped it would. "How about you start from the beginning, hon? Maybe we'll be able to figure something out together." She takes her martini again, for the first time in the past few minutes taking a sip.

Her look is expectant and warm when Shadow meets it.

Tan lips twist into a scowl at the other's demeanor. At this very moment, Shadow honestly cannot say whether Rouge's trying to be helpful or nosy—the only thing he can say with certainty is that she's trying to get information out of him.

What she's planning to do with it is other matter entirely.

And because he cannot risk her running to Sonic with any new findings... "What part of 'unfixable' did you not understand?" he asks instead of responding, a scowl immediately appearing at Rouge's lips. "There's nothing that can be done. Don't try to save something that is broken at its core."

No machine can work properly if one of its _basic_ parts is broken.

"Your and Sonic's relationship is far from 'broken', Shadow," Rouge argues, not aware that isn't the issue. "If at all, honestly."

"How would _you_ know?" Shadow replies, challenging her conviction. "We could have been arguing for months and you wouldn't know."

"I've seen enough to know you make each other genuinely happy." Rouge's lips press into a thin line. "And as I said Sonic _called_ me." She gives him a pointed look. "So, don't think I don't know the other side of this story; he hasn't seen this coming at _all_. So don't try to make it sound as if whatever it's eating you is a long time problem."

"It's a long time problem," Shadow says before he can stop himself. "I just made sure to hide it from him."

"And what _exactly_ is this problem if you'd be so kind to tell?"

Shadow huffs. The sarcasm is practically dripping from Rouge's words. Not that it's going to help her anyhow.

Raising his glass, he shakes his head dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"It does _not_ ," Shadow practically hisses the words. "Why would it when you can't fix it?"

"If you haven't noticed I'm a woman of many talents—I can even solve those problems others cannot," Rouge announces confidently, taking another sip of her drink.

A scowl forms on Shadow's face at the comment and it's probably all the stress, frustration and anger accumulated over the many months, the desire to wipe the smug confident smirk off Rouge's face for once and the alcohol making his tongue looser than advisable that he says what he says next.

"Oh, really? Since when are you an expert on genetics?"

"Genetics?" Rouge repeats, her brows raising in interest at this new development. "What about them?"

Crimson eyes go wide as Shadow realizes what he had just let slip out and immediately internally curses himself. "It—it doesn't matter. Just—"

"No, you said genetics. So what about them? What's the issue here? And whose 'genetics' are we speaking here?" Rouge cuts in, her look now one of determination; he has given her a straw and Rouge being who she is is going to clutch onto it and not let go until she gets a proper answer out of him.

 _Damn it. Damn it **all**._

Shadow sighs. Now he has to give Rouge just enough information to sate her curiosity so she would not prod any further but still leave the gaps big enough so she wouldn't be able to fill them in. "...Mine."

"What kind of—?" Rouge stops as if she has just realized something. Her expression shifts ever so slightly and her tone comes out a bit sharper when she continues, "...I swear Shadow if this is over the 'immortality thing' again I'm smacking you for Sonic. _Twice_."

"No. This is _not_ because of the 'immortality thing'," Shadow hisses, aggravated; they've been already over this once, he honestly doesn't need another scolding on the topic. He's immortal and he's gonna out-live everyone he cares about at one point—it's something he's just learned to not think about; he can't do anything about that anyway.

But apart from his other flaws, it is something that concerns only him and not Sonic.

"Then what is the issue?" Rouge demands. "I thought that was the only problematic part of your genetics."

" _Every_ part of my genetics is problematic," Shadow replies.

He pours and downs another glass at that thought.

"It's only five in the afternoon, hon," Rouge points out casually at the action but he doesn't bother to respond to it and instead takes another swig—to piss her off, to make her leave him alone or just making sure no other potentially harmful truths aren't going to slip out, he's not so sure himself.

When there's no other verbal reaction from him, Rouge just sighs, obviously realizing she won't get any more information out of him today. "Don't blame _me_ if you have a horrible hangover tomorrow," she announces before rising from her seat, taking both of her drinks and finally leaving him alone on the table as Shadow asked her to do when she's first arrived.

The moment she's behind the bar again, an ebony hand reaches for the second one of the two bottles.

Thereafter, many glasses are poured and consumed, Shadow's mind gradually getting hazier with each one. Time flies and soon he's starting another bottle. His heart's sorrows are drowned and forgotten by the fourth one.

And, by the last quarter of the fifth, all that remains of him follows it into the sweet blackness of oblivion.

* * *

 **AN:—angst! *laughs evilly***

 **Good news is third chapter is 90 % written. Bad news is it's so freaking emotional and dialogue heavy that you'll have to wait at least 3 weeks for it. Though having some nice comments to read might help me work faster... *totally not trying to manipulate anyone***


	3. Submission of Will

**AN: I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting, I ended up doing a lot more changes than I originally planned but I'm honestly happy with the result. Hopefully you'll be too!**

 **Fasten your seatbelts, everyone, this is gonna be one hell of an emotional ride!**

* * *

 ** **Chapter 3: Submission of Will****

"Rise and shine, Sunshine!"

Waking up to a splitting headache reverberating through his skull, with a morning sun trying to burn out his retina the moment he opens his eyes, and a jolly Rouge by his bedside, grinning at him with a smile as wide as if Knuckles had just decided to gift the Master Emerald and all the Chaos Emeralds to her, isn't something Shadow has not experienced before but that doesn't mean he's going to give Rouge any less shit for it than the first time she decided to wake him up like this.

He sits up in the bed—his old one, he notes absently—massaging his temple with one hand in hope to relieve some pain as he sends his colleague a death-glare that would send an ordinary person running for their dear life. However, Rouge has always loved poking a hornet's nest. "Rouge, I swear—"

But before he can finish, Rouge raises her hand, cutting him off. "Stop right there, hon. I actually have a good reason to wake you up this time."

 _That still doesn't mean you have to scream in my ear because of it,_ he complains internally as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, still massaging his head. However, knowing that reprimanding Rouge isn't going to change anything—it never does—he just wearily asks, "And that is...?"

"A mission from the Commander," Rouge replies simply as she walks over to him and places something on the nightstand with a soft clicking noise. Automatically Shadow glances to see what it is and it appears to be a glass of water and two pills—probably for his headache.

Rouge confirms his suspicion just a moment later. "Here's an aspirin, get a shower and we can get on the way." She starts moving back towards the door, where she stops to add, "Oh, and I'd suggest you to do it quickly; Commander has sounded rather impatient today."

"Two minutes," Shadow replies simply. Rouge gives him a quick nod in acknowledgement, before disappearing behind the door.

Shadow takes the pills and water, swallowing both in one go. He sets the empty glass back onto the table and automatically heads for the bathroom. It's only couple of heartbeats later that he's standing in the shower and for once washing away only sweat and grime instead of guilt and shame.

For once there have been no dreams plaguing him—or at least none he can recall. To be honest, he can recall absolutely _nothing_ since Rouge walking away from his table to waking up here in his former room.

His hands reaches to turn off the faucet, but his hand freezes before it even touches it.

What if he...has spilled something in that time-frame?

Shadow curses internally. He hasn't thought about that possibility.

He always goes to the Club Rouge when he feels like he needs some time alone and because Rouge was _supposed_ to be on a mission yesterday, it seemed as a perfect plan at the time—a familiar place but with no familiar face to interrogate him while he was in alcoholic delirium.

But by the time Rouge showed up, he all but forget that it wasn't a wise idea to drink away his sorrows while Rouge was around; that she might use that against him and pry information out of him while he's still coherent enough to be able to speak but too drunk to remember he wasn't supposed to tell her all she wanted to know.

Of course, it is _also_ possible that she hasn't managed to obtain any information from him. And if he should judge, she doesn't _seem_ like she knows anything but Rouge has always been an amazing actress when it comes to pretending she both _knows_ and _doesn't know_ things.

There's no way to really know for him what is the truth, and asking Rouge whether she knows anything can also very much lead to him slipping and spilling things again, so there is honestly only one way to go about this.

Presume she knows nothing and avoid talking about yesterday altogether.

As he stops the water, Shadow steps out of the shower, briefly drying himself up before putting on his yesterday's clothing; when he had moved out of Club Rouge, he had taken all his belongings with him, which meant that in order to get fresh he'd have to go back to his and Sonic's house...

He sighs, balling his hand into a fist. He knows it's horrible what he's done; first, he broke Sonic's heart, then lied straight to Sonic's face and topped it all off with running away like a coward without an actual explanation. It wasn't fair of him in any way and he knows it.

But Sonic will bounce back up eventually, he's sure of that.

Though to be frank, he's honestly not going to be surprised if Sonic will scream at him the next time they see each other. Or punch him. Or pretend he doesn't exist. Or give him the Artika of cold shoulders.

Whatever helps Sonic release his anger and not hate him completely is fine with Shadow.

Thought with rift of secrets and dishonesty that he's put between them can he even hope for _that_? Sonic isn't one to hold grudges but who is to say he won't make exception for that one guy that has broken his heart that said guy's been entrusted with? A selfish man that would choose to tell lies just so he could keep him in his life rather than risk telling the truth and being abhorred and avoided for it?

With a sigh, he secures his inhibitor rings around his wrists and finally leaves the room to head outside the club where Rouge is already waiting.

"Do you still have the Emerald?" she inquires the moment she sees him. "We're supposed to pick up some package on the west exit from the city and then deliver it to the HQ. It will be faster if you just chaos control us there."

"Sure." Shadow just nods and fetches the Chaos Emerald that has been tucked away in his head-quills since yesterday; since he used it to run from Sonic...

Forcibly pushing that thought away, he outstretches his hand towards Rouge. Once his colleague lays her hand onto the Emerald, he murmurs the activation words and in a blink of an eye they're standing in the lush forest that surrounds the west road from both sides.

Shadow lets his gaze rove over the vegetation, searching for the person that is supposed to give them the package. "How is—?"

However, the moment Shadow turns his head, Rouge suddenly switches her hold onto the emerald to have a better grip and yanks the emerald right from his hand, blasting straight upward with such force the wind created by her wings rustles all the vegetation around them.

 _What the—?!_ Shadow sharply turns to look up, to see his suddenly rapidly ascending colleague, the bat flapping her wings as fast as if she was flying for her dear life—which she might as well be doing depending on whether her reason for stealing his emerald is good or _not_.

"What the hell are you doing, Rouge?!"

Rouge stops ascending only once she's safe deal of distance from his jumping range and only then she looks down at him, grins widely and hollers, "Marriage counseling!" The with an elegant spin, she promptly switches to propelling herself back towards the city, flapping her wings as fast as only thief on the run can.

 _Marriage counseling? What—_ Shadow's about to run right after her to demand an explanation of what the hell she means by _that_ as well as his emerald back—but just as he's about to make the first step, a voice stops him dead in his tracks.

"Hey."

Both Shadow' mind as well as body halt at the voice, his head immediately snapping around to look at the person to convince himself he cannot be hearing right. But he is and Shadow's whole body freezes the moment his gaze lands on the speaker.

Sonic.

Red eyes widen ever so slightly. Rouge has freaking walked him into a _trap_.

Fury of betrayal fills Shadow's veins, hollering at him to chase Rogue down and make her feel his _wrath_. The emotion feels absolutely overwhelming but it is too short-lived, not even getting him to do a single step before it's all drowned under the massive flood of other emotions that tears through his barricades the moment his _heart_ realizes who's standing before him.

Guilt. Fear. _Longing_. All the emotions from yesterday and _more_ come rushing back in once more, demanding him to move _—run_. But because Shadow doesn't know if that would be _away_ or _closer_ , he doesn't let them, uses all of his willpower to make himself stay put exactly where he is as well as strip his expression of any emotion, not allowing either the pained longing nor the joy of seeing Sonic to show where he just _couldn't_ allow the hero to see them.

But while Shadow keeps his expression carefully guarded, void of every single emotion—as _best_ as he can—Sonic does the exact opposite.

Not one to hide emotions, Sonic lets him see it _all_ ; the pain of the broken heart, the resentment of the hurt, the fury of the betrayed. All the suffering is _bare_ to Shadow's eyes and Shadow has to _battle_ himself; both to not cowardly look away _and_ to not succumb to the urge to go over and comfort the other.

Because he cannot do that. He just _can't_. No matter how _much_ he wants to.

The only thing that can heal this particular wound is the truth and he cannot offer Sonic that.

Unfortunately, Sonic doesn't seem like he's willing to settle for less. The determination that shines in the emerald eyes as well as the slight occasional tensing of the blue legs, ready to immediately break into mad pursuit if necessary, tell him well enough that Sonic's not letting him run away today; the hero will chase after him to the other side of the world and back again and _again_ until they both collapse from exhaustion if necessary.

Sonic won't let him escape. Not this time. Not without an answer.

However, Shadow cannot give him one. Not now, not ever.

"Shadow—" Sonic begins, making a step forward. But Shadow shakes his head, stopping the hero before he can even start properly.

"No," he says simply. _Resolutely_.

And that makes Sonic halt in his step. "...No?" the hero voices, blue brows furrowing in confusion over green eyes. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I..." Shadow opens his mouth but then closes it again. To be honest, he himself isn't sure what he has meant by that. That he's not going to give Sonic the explanation the hero wants and deserves? That he doesn't want Sonic to come closer because he knows then it will be just too tempting to do something _foolish_? That Sonic would not like whatever he would tell him so he do better to not ask at all?

Shadow honestly doesn't know himself. Maybe it's all of the above, maybe none of it. He _doesn't_ know.

"...This wasn't supposed to happen this soon," he decides to say in the end as it's the only thing he knows with certainty; this confrontation was supposed to happen much later—once he was prepared for it. Not now. Not when his emotions are still raw and encouraging him to get back what he knows he'd only destroy down the line.

"Sometimes things happen even if we don't expect them." Something in Sonic's eyes turns hard. "Even if we don't want them to happen." Fawn arms fold over their owner's chest in way that seems faintly defensive. "Even if we _aren't_ prepared."

Tan lips press into a thin line at the other's words and demeanor. The hero's tone is level but Shadow can hear the accusations in it, hear the hurt and anger that is simmering right below the surface.

He knows it too well.

But there's nothing he can do about it; he has _nothing_ to offer to calm the raging fire in Sonic's eyes.

And so Shadow opens his mouth to speak, to once again apologize for the pain he has caused Sonic—because that's _all_ he can give—but before he can do so, Sonic is already shaking his head for him to stop.

"Don't," the hero breaths, making the word sound as an odd mixture of an order and a frustrated sigh, eyes briefly squeezing shut as if in pain. "I don't want to hear another empty apology from you. Nor lies or half-truths. I don't want _any_ of _that_ ," Sonic growls, green eyes blazing while peach arms untangle to gesture instead. "I want an answer, an explanation—the _truth_ you consider so bad you'd rather lie to me about it than saying what's wrong."

Shadow closes his eyes tiredly; as if it all was that simple."...I rather have you think of me as a liar than the alternative."

"What's the alternative?"

Shadow snorts. Of course, Sonic would ask _that_ question. "Something much worse."

"A monster?" Sonic suggests without hesitation and crimson eyes snap towards him in alarm. It is in that moment that Shadow realizes what the answer to his earlier question is—yes, he has indeed spilled something while Rouge was around.

"Rouge?" he asks simply, wanting a confirmation.

"Yeah." Sonic affirms the answer with a small nod, peach arms once again coming to rest over his chest—a bit less rigid this time, but still obviously protective. "Care to elaborate on that?"

Shadow opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again; there's not really a way for him to elaborate on his reasons without actually revealing them.

A silence befalls them. Sonic continues to only look at him, challenging him to answer with look alone. However, when a few long moments past without a word from him, Sonic relents; green eyes fall closed, sparing him of the other's blazing gaze, and Sonic lets out a heavy sigh, peach shoulders sagging noticeably at the exhale.

When the green eyes open again, the raging fire that has once been there is no longer to be found, the hero now looking at him with only pain, sadness and _weariness_. "You know, I'm alright with you being half-alien and all that, right? I couldn't care less where you got your genes from—" Shadow blinks, surprised by the unexpected remark as well as confused for a moment before he figures it is most likely supposed to address an issue Rouge must have suggested might be bothering him after reflecting on whatever information she managed to pry out of him. "—just because you have a little bit of alien DNA doesn't make you a monster."

 _Actually, it does_ , Shadow murmurs internally, lips twisting into a scowl. _A blood-thirsty, violence-craving monster..._ However, aloud he only says, "I know my blood doesn't matter to you." _But it should_ , he adds voicelessly.

Sonic stares at him for a long while as if he's trying to decipher him—which he most likely is. "...But it does to you." Not a question but a statement—an accurate one. Unsurprisingly. "Because you think it makes you a monster." Sonic's brows furrow in confusion, the hero obviously not able to come up with any plausible explanation.

Therefore, he asks for it. A single "Why?" falls from peach lips and even though the question is so simple, even though Shadow _knew_ he would have to eventually explain himself, the agent is still indecisive about how to answer it.

After all, avoiding the answer is just going to fuel Sonic's determination to stay at his tail. Lying too if he doesn't come up with enough of a good, believable reason. However, he has already tried that and Sonic has caught him on his lie—lying again would just pour fuel into the fire once Sonic found out.

Not _if_ but _once_ , because no matter how stupid he sometimes might act, Sonic definitely isn't an idiot; he'd find out eventually. When Sonic wants he _can_ be clever.

Sometimes a bit _too_ clever for his own good—as he's already shown.

Shadow curses internally. Sonic is not leaving him any other choice but honesty. But how is he supposed to be honest in _this case_? How can he speak the truth and yet not say too much, how can he give Sonic a glimpse, an idea but without the horrible details—

"Stop that, would you?" Sonic suddenly says, snapping him from his thoughts and making him glance back at the hero, who's now looking at him with creased brows and a mouth twisted into a small frown.

Confused, Shadow mirrors the other's expression. "Stop what?"

"All that over-thinking. I can practically see the cogs turning in your head," Sonic retorts in a tone that lacks the jovialness he'd usually add to a remark like this one, but when Shadow looks hard enough he can still spot it in the other's expression—see a glimpse of an amused twinkle dancing in the green eyes.

The finding has _no_ right to comfort Shadow to the degree it does.

Neither does the look Sonic is giving him—but that doesn't change the fact they _do_ , bring the relief, the _proof_ that the layer of anger and pain that the usual Sonic is currently hidden under is not so thick that he wouldn't be able to break through it; that if he tried hard enough, Sonic would probably be even willing to forgive him to some degree, to let him try to repair the rift he's created—but only if he _himself_ is willing to take the necessary steps, that is.

But Shadow isn't willing to take such risk and that's the problem. However, that, _of course_ , doesn't stop Sonic from asking him to, doesn't stop Sonic from making the _first_ step towards it.

"How about this? Just for now, _stop_ thinking and hear me out, alright?" the hero asks of him as he makes the said first tentative step. Shadow's lips pull into a thin line at the other's sudden move, but the agent makes no move to regain the distance; which Sonic clearly takes it as a silent sign of approval as he takes another step—with considerably more confidence this time.

"We all doubt—ourselves and other people." A step closer. "Sometimes it can save you but sometimes you just have to stop listening to the little nagging voice and take a leap of faith." Another step. "And I know I'm asking a lot but, please, Shadow, take one now. _Trust me_ and tell me what's wrong." And another. "No matter how awful the truth is. I _do_ want to hear it. I do want to _know_."

And the last one.

They're now standing close together, so close it would literally take Shadow just a small step and outstretching his arm to touch the other; Shadow's fingers twitch at the mere idea and so the agent crosses his arms to avoid this exact temptation.

Green eyes flicker towards his chest at the gesture and then back to this face. The little spark in Sonic's eyes dims a bit before lightening up with even bigger intensity, the hero's voice in turn becoming full of certitude as he declares, "...and I think _you_ want me to too."

Shadow's fingers dig into the flesh of his bicep at the other's unshakable confidence, the agent once again reminded how well the other knows him, how easily he can read him...and how much he doesn't want to let go of this easy familiarity.

But, in his life, he's already been forced to give up many things—so why should this time be different?

And so he asks, "Why should what I want matter?" Because, really, why should it? What he wants and what he can have have never been one and the same. It shouldn't matter. At _all_.

But then again, Sonic has always viewed some things differently.

"Because you matter to _me_ ," the hero says, having a reason as simple as that, and, even though Shadow has believed he couldn't feel any more guilty that he has already, he _does_ , his heart squeezing painfully as he meets Sonic's gaze, the sincere green eyes gazing at him with pain that he believes is in equal parts _because_ of him and _for_ him.

It feels like a brutal punch to the gut and he hates it.

It's a reality check that reminds him that Sonic should not be here, talking to him _like this_ in the first place; telling him he still _cares_ and trying to help him sort through his issues. Should not be _pitying_ him but screaming at him and damning him as he deserves...

But that's just who Sonic has always been—a big ego and even bigger heart. Someone that will ignore his own suffering in order to help you—even if you don't ask or even deserve it, even if it causes himself agonizing pain, even if it means putting himself on the line...

Shadow's fingers clench painfully around his arms, nails almost digging into flesh even through the thick fabric of his gloves. He doesn't deserve this kindness. This care. Any of _this_ —he doesn't deserve even the sliver of Sonic and his love.

And he never will.

 _If you love something, let it go..._ The saying sounds through Shadow's mind as a distant memory and he realizes what he needs to do. He looks back to the other's expectant gaze, seeing all the emotions that spiral in their depths, all the emotions that are of his making and all that are not, the dark mingling together with the light, dulling and suffocating what would have been bright and shining with all imaginable joys of life if it weren't for him.

Shadow's lips pull into a thin line, his hold on his own arms slackening as he stops resisting—finally gives in after so long, his will to fight crumbling like a house of cards in hurricane when he realizes how his selfishness to keep Sonic in his life at least in some way has once again been stopping him from doing what's right.

Crimson eyes gaze longingly at the other for a long moment before Shadow closes them and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he has actually tried to so desperately avoid all this time.

Letting go.

Red eyes open and with them Shadow's lips, the agent finally ready to take on himself to be the accuser on his own trial.

 _If you choose to leave, I won't stop you._

"...Even though you might believe so, Black Doom's blood doesn't affect me only physically." Sonic's brows rise in a great surprise at his words, the hero most likely having expecting him to give a somehow avoidant answer again—but Shadow doesn't to plan to give any of those anymore. "...but also mentally and emotionally."

Sonic stares at him expectantly, for once just a silent listener while he collects his thoughts. The thought alone feels absolutely surreal to Shadow but then again this is extraordinary situation in every way.

"I experience some things differently than you Mobians do. Think about them differently. Feel about them differently. Feel this instinctive _need_ to do some...morally reprehensible things that normal Mobians wouldn't feel."

Sonic opens his mouth as if he wants to ask something, but Shadow doesn't let him, pushing on before he can change his mind about this; things in motion stay in motion unless an outside force interferes and he cannot let Sonic unknowingly be said force.

Because Sonic deserves to know the truth he's been keeping for him, see his true colors instead of the lie he's been feeding him all this time—deserves the chance to see the truth and decided himself what he wishes to do with it.

"I felt those needs since my first days but at the time it was easy to ignore them. However, when I lost my memories after the ARK and the Black Arms invasion happened, there was nothing—no one—stopping me from fulfilling those needs. I fought and didn't think it was wrong that I enjoyed the feeling of bones breaking under my fists, hearing the painful screams as I delivered blow after blow or the feeling of warm blood coating my hands—I believed all that to be normal. I relished them and my blood roared in pleasure. I grew addicted to the sensation; at the time, all I wanted to do was harm and kill. I yearned to destroy you all—the GUN, the Black Arms, your friends, _you_."

Crimson eyes meet their shocked green counterparts and Shadow sees something shift in them. If it's good or bad he doesn't know.

He carries on regardless.

"When I remembered who I was—who all of you were—I fought those needs and did all to suppress them. It seemed to be effective...at first." He pauses momentarily to take a deep breath, to collect himself as well as give himself a couple of more precious moments when he might not be just yet thought of as a monster before he delivers the darkest part of his confession that will irreversibly paint him as one. "But since a couple of months ago I've started having these dreams where I hurt and kill you in various ways and even if I don't want to, I find myself _relishing_ each of those dreams more than the one that has come before it, find myself desiring to make them a reality."

A brief silence befalls them and Shadow dares to take a look at the other, dares to meet the other's gaze. However, there's nothing to be found—Sonic is standing completely still, face and eyes blank of any emotion. If it is because of a shocking realization of who— _what_ —he's had by his side for all those months or Sonic possibly being frozen by a newfound fear of him, Shadow doesn't know—and it doesn't really matter where the truth lies; both options are equally painful.

But he's never been a stranger to pain, be it emotional or physical, and so he strides on, delivering at last, "...and I fear that one day, I might not be able to stop myself from doing exactly that."

And then he just awaits his sentence; he's ready to be looked at with disgust and abhorred, ready for Sonic to turn and leave without another word—he is ready for everything _except_ that what actually follows.

Instead of Sonic turning away, giving him the most disgusted look imaginable or throwing nasty words into his face; the hero just _stares_ at him.

But there's no disgust or contempt in the other's expressions, Sonic just looks pensive, looking at him as if he's some kind of puzzle the hero just cannot figure out.

There's no movement on Sonic's part either; the hero is remaining where he is, standing barely at arm-length away from him and doing nothing to increase this distance.

Shadow feels both hope and dread mix in him at the fact; though the minuscule hope is soon mercilessly crushed, the agent believing Sonic's lack of reaction just to be Sonic still processing the information.

That's also why he doesn't expect what falls from Sonic's lips just a moment later.

"...You know, I always kind of _knew_ you were a closet sadist," the hero confesses and Shadow just kind of...stands and stares, as the words have not been delivered with disgust, but as a mere statement, Sonic's expression morphing from thoughtful to something more curious rather than anything else. "I just didn't know you felt so... _strongly_ about the whole thing."

Frankly speaking, Shadow is not that surprised by Sonic's words in themselves; Sonic isn't dumb and knows how to read people's character—heck, Sonic has jokingly called him 'sadist' on multiple occasions—of course, he's known even without him saying anything.

But what the agent's definitely surprised about is that the words have been delivered so _calmly_ , is confused that Sonic doesn't seem even slightly disturbed by the fact his sadistic desires are as _extreme_ as one can get.

And he voices this confusion, "...You seem awfully calm about this."

"Well, you always liked to play rough _so_..." Sonic shrugs his shoulders, making vague gestures with his hands, the implications so obvious he clearly doesn't feel like he needs to voice them. "Though I never saw it as a problem and just accepted it as a part of your personality. I never thought of you as a monster because of it—I still _don't_ just for the record."

Dark brows furrow in deep confusion. "...But I said I wanted to _kill_ you," Shadow says slowly, just not understanding just how can the other not think of him at least a bit negatively after all that has been said.

A scowl mars Sonic's face. "Having evil desires doesn't make you a monster, Shadow, _acting_ on them does," the hero argues, "and there's a complete lack of 'acting' on your part in the killing department as we can _both_ —" Sonic gestures to his entirety to underline his point. " _—_ see here."

"But I've already hurt you even without intending to. _Severely_ ," Shadow argues back, his hand briefly ghosting over the side of Sonic's ribcage before the agent remembers it's no longer his place to touch the other so casually and so he pulls his hand back, balling it into a fist just as frustration slips into his voice. "I allowed myself to let go and, in the end, you paid for it."

Sonic glances at the spot where he has been touched, the hero looking puzzled for a moment by the gesture. But then something flickers in the green eyes and Sonic looks up at him, looking as if something has just dawned on him.

"It was one mistake, Shadow. Accidents happen all the time—"

"I didn't even feel bad about hurting you in that moment," Shadow interjects, not backing down, looking the other right in the eye to give as much weight to his words as he can; Sonic needs to _understand_ the seriousness of the situation, the _intensity_ of his awful need. "I felt proud of myself and I wanted to hurt you more."

"...But you didn't. You stopped yourself from doing that." But Sonic's not backing down either. "Instead you asked me if I was alright and helped me. Healed me with chaos energy, remember? You let yourself be carried away but felt sorry about what you did and did all you could to fix it...that's not how monsters act."

"But it's not far from it," Shadow replies, not letting the other's words lull him into the illusion that he's somehow less of a bad person than he believes himself to be; so what that he let himself go and then tried to make up for it? He should _not_ have allowed himself to let go in the first place. "It doesn't make me any less dangerous."

"No, it doesn't," Sonic agrees with a somber expression, momentarily throwing Shadow for a loop—as since when did Sonic agree with him on this issue?— before continuing, "...but I do think it shows that your _condition_ is not as unfixable as you think."

Shadow raises a doubtful brow. "And how is that so?"

Sonic grins, an oddly mischievous smile. "You know I get off on danger."

Blinking at the out-of-nowhere remark, Shadow stares at the other in confusion, not having really expected anything of the sort to fall from Sonic's lips as that is in _no_ way answer to his question. "...Pardon?"

"Well, not _literally_ —I mean, that would be _hella_ awkward." Rubbing his neck, Sonic chuckles at the prospect before his hands fall away from his neck to gesture instead. "But when I started fighting Eggman as a kid, I did it because there was nobody else to do it—no one else had the power. But, as time went on, I began to really, _really_ enjoy the danger of fighting him and his robots—more than I should have, definitely."

Sonic glances down as if in shame, once again rubbing his neck in embarrassment, the hero for the first time in past few minutes showing something else than confidence. Though the hero surely doesn't hesitate to meet his gaze even this time. "From time to time, I just...I just want the stakes to feel higher, you know? So I get daring—and _reckless_ —I've almost got myself killed on multiple occasions because of it..."

A sigh escapes the peach lips and a gloved hand droops back to the blue hip.

"After we stopped sparring, it got even worse. So I thought that maybe sparring with Knuckles would help me. However, no matter how mad I get him, it's never quite enough. It...it never really feels as _exciting_ as with you. I guess now I know why—dancing with the death and all that, you know?" Sonic chuckles, a small smile on his face.

Dark brows furrow over the crimson eyes, Shadow still unsure what is the purpose behind the hero's words.

"...Why are you telling me all of this, Sonic?"

Peach lips press into thin line; not tense but contemplative. "I think what I'm trying to say is that you're looking at your problem the _wrong_ way." A confused look is the hero's only response and so Sonic's elaborates, "You called your desire for violence a _need_. Maybe you should start treating it as a one."

"I wasn't speaking literally." Shadow frowns. His want for violence isn't a need, it's a _desire_. A dangerous one, but one indeed. "It was just a figure of speech—"

"Those were your words, Shadow, not mine—and you _love_ to be precise," Sonic interjects, once again catching him on his own lie—even if it might have not been an intentional one this time. "Just think about it. People have different needs, don't they? We all need different things—friends, adventures and some of us _also adrenaline_ rushes from time to time—" A small smile graces Sonic's lips, a small private joke shared only between the two of them. "—Though there are also some things we can all agree on. Like, we, Mobians, all need to eat and sleep. Those are _our_ basic needs," the hero emphasizes, "But you have a bit of Black Arms in you too and maybe the need for violence is one of _their_ basic needs. You can try to suppress them but there's only so long you can ignore your needs before a tragedy occurs."

"Our needs might be different but I do understand what you're going through, Shadow; I know that insistent, nagging feeling that never seems to go away." Sonic steps closer, leaving only inches of space between them, the two so close Shadow can feel the heat radiating from the other's body. His hands itch to close that gap but Shadow doesn't let them, willing himself to focus on Sonic's words instead of the other's closeness. "But you can silence it if you just know _how_. If you experiment a bit—Say, was it any better back when we still sparred?

It takes Shadow a moment to consider his answer. "...Yes." It wasn't perfect but it's all just gone completely downhill from then, honestly. "...but never quite enough."

"But it _did_ help, didn't it?" Sonic asks, more of a rhetorical question than anything else. "It was better then. When you could let go once in a while."

Tan lips press into a thin line, the agent silent as there is nothing to say except that Sonic is right. But Sonic doesn't need to hear that because obviously he knows he is. They both do.

"So why don't you try asking for _that_ again?" A small smile is gracing the peach mouth when Sonic opens his arms wide as if he's offering himself exactly for that, which Shadow with a bit of disbelief realizes the hero actually _is_. "At least for the time being until we figure out something better."

Shadow frowns. The offer is tempting but there's something he just cannot ignore. "Last time I hurt you."

"And I said I forgave you, right?" Sonic says, _repeats_ again but surprisingly without any irritation. "So, forget about the whole thing finally, 'kay? There's no need for you to keep beating yourself over it."

Shadow's hands clench on his arms. How is he supposed to forget to something like that? Hurting him? Especially when there's the very likely chance of that happening again if he accepts what Sonic's proposing. "But what if I get carried away again? What if I _hurt_ you again?"

"Well, people have a safe-word for these things, don't they? We can do that," Sonic offers. "We can also bring a Chaos Emerald along to use just in case."

Shadow's lips press into a thin line as he ponders the idea. The safety-measures Sonic is proposing are good, as good as one can get. But then again even a single unlucky hit can easily turn into a deadly blow...

Seeing his continued indecisiveness, Sonic lets out a tired sigh. "...I know I can't ensure nothing will go wrong, but neither can you, Shadow. If you just continue like this, it _won't_ solve anything; you'll just get more frustrated and eventually become a ticking bomb just waiting to explode," the hero said, trying to appeal to his reason, "but _my way_ you can at least let out some steam once in a while."

Even though Shadow doesn't want to admit it, Sonic's is once again right. Ignoring the matter has only made things worse—but sparring might help he get back at least that fragile _balance_. But it will need at least _two_ forces to somehow balance out these scales. "...Are you sure you want to take this risk for me, Sonic?"

"Of course." Sonic nods, no hint of hesitation in his voice or body-language. "That's what partners do, after all—work through difficulties together."

"Partners?" Shadow repeats, red eyes widening ever so slightly, the agent even making a small step back in his surprise. "You can't possibly—"

A small tilt of the blue head and Sonic shifting his weight are Shadow's only warnings before he is promptly silenced with a kiss being placed onto his lips. It's short, soft and chaste but it still enough to steal all the will to resist from his body; when Sonic pulls way to instead lean his forehead against his own, bringing up gloved hands to gently cradle Shadow's face in them, Shadow cannot help but melt into the sensation nor stop his eyelids from falling closed momentarily at the feeling.

"Feelings don't pass that easily, you know that," Sonic murmurs into their shared breath, one of the gloved thumbs now gently caressing the agent's cheek. "...and I don't let go easily either."

Shadow lets out a deep relieved sigh, feeling as if great weight has just fallen off his shoulders at the other's words— _assurance_. Striped arms finally circle their way around the blue and peach body, finally bring it closer against his own this time, _finally_ allow him to relish the sensation he'd though he'd never be allowed to experience again.

It takes a gentle brush of Sonic's hand moving from his cheek to his nape to get him to focus back on the other's words as well as opens his eyes.

The green eyes twinkle with something warm when Shadow meets Sonic's gaze. "You'll have to try harder if you plan to get rid off me," the hero adds with amused undertone to his previous remark, giving him a small peck on the cheek. "Probably as hard as I'll have to try to get all that _goddamn_ stubbornness out of you."

"Look who's talking." Shadow huffs in response, seeing the other's words as the invitation it is supposed to be to start their usual banter to lighten up their minds and hearts. "You're fighting for someone who _enjoys_ punching you."

"To be fair, that feeling is mutual." Peach arms loop around the dark neck so Sonic could pull himself closer, the hero now sporting a wide playful grin. "Though I guess we both enjoy different _aspects_ of the activity."

"Still..." Shadow turns more pensive; Sonic might have forgiven him already but he believes an apology is still in order. He wants to be _deserving_ of being in Sonic's good graces. "I shouldn't have kept this from you at all—you deserved to know much _much_ sooner, at the very start. I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long." He sighs. If he weren't such a selfish bastard—if he had been more _trusting_ —they wouldn't even be here. He could save both of them—mostly Sonic—all this pain. "I'm sorry for all the lies I've tried to feed you and all the pain I have caused you."

One of Shadow's hands moves higher to the other's once-broken ribs, the agent well aware that no matter how many times Sonic might tell him to forget the accident, he can't do something like that on command; it'll take him long to forget something like that.

But that is good; he'll need a remainder to keep him somehow tame before he learns how to better control himself—that memory will do perfectly.

The specific placement of his hand however doesn't escape his partner's notice. Though Sonic doesn't say anything about it, letting him collect his thoughts in silence as he's done before.

"...I'm sorry for losing my cool and letting you pay for it," Shadow murmurs, more to himself than Sonic really, his fingers sliding down a bruise on Sonic's side that he knows he himself had put there during their last wild tumble in the sheets; the painful kind of mark a lover should not make on their partner's body without their explicit consent. "I'm sorry for this too."

But, as seems to be the custom this day, Sonic just shakes his head at his remark again.

"Don't be. You would have heard me complaining _very_ loudly if I was uncomfortable with that." Green eyes open, a gentle smile on Sonic's face now. "You would have probably got bitten _back_ even," Sonic teases, the light-hearted tone that Shadow is used to always hearing— _loves_ hearing—lacing the words. "So don't be sorry about _that_."

"Are there at least other things I'm allowed to be sorry about?" Shadow asks in deadpan, earning himself a small amused snort from Sonic.

"If you want to," Sonic says, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't insist on it."

Shadow rises a brow. "How come?"

"You did all of this because you thought it was the only way to protect me, you also obviously expected me to get pitchfork or something on you if I knew the truth and still choose to tell me, you admitted to being an _idiot_. You've earned yourself some brownie points for that," Sonic explains, small grin on his lips. Shadow's lips press into a thin line, but he doesn't protest against being called an 'idiot'; he's truly behaved as one.

"Though don't think that means I'm not mad at you anymore." There's a slap to Shadow's chest, strong just enough for him to feel it, a sharp sting, but hardly something that could cause any kind of actual damage. "You still have a lot of making up to do," Sonic mutters. "You better spoil me with attention," he adds with a chuckle.

"As if you weren't already," Shadow quips back but holds no intention not to do exactly that; if that is the price of Sonic's forgiveness so be it. He'll pay it _gladly_. "But I'll try what I can do."

"It'll be interesting. Indeed." Sonic unwraps his arms from around Shadow's neck and then Shadow's own from around his waist—only to slip one of his hands into Shadow's, intertwining their fingers together, the dark hand gripping on tightly the moment they are slotted together. "Just for your information Rouge cleared your schedule so you can start today already."

Shadow gives one of his rare small smiles. "I will."

"I'm happy to hear that." The hero's smile doesn't falter even for a second, the green eyes twinkling happily too as Sonic says, "Let's go home, Shadow."

 _Home._ The word feels almost foreign on Shadow's tongue now after already forcing himself to come to terms with the thought he'd had irreversibly lost it with his actions—lost his place by Sonic's side, accepted that he would no longer be welcome there.

However, he is and that fills him with all kind of conflicting feelings as well as strong determination to fight his demons tooth and nail even though he knows it will be a grueling fight; his demons are not easy opponents. Then again neither is he nor Sonic.

Shadow didn't lose his home to Black Arms when the aliens invaded; there's no way in hell he's letting it happen this time.

 **The End**

* * *

 **AN: And that's all for this story, everyone, I hope you had fun! I definitely had fun writing it! It's much more emotionally charged than what I'm used to writing so it was a pretty difficult challenge for me but I'm happy with the result. Thank you for reading and all the support. It means a lot to me.**

 **Tirainy out!**


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